“I’m being careful—finally. Like I should have been earlier.” Mari fidgeted with the hem of her untucked shirt, weariness straining her face, dark circles under her eyes. “She’s a child. A human being. We can’t just fly by the seat of our pants.”
He wanted to haul Mari into his arms and let her sleep against his chest, tell her she didn’t have to be so serious, she didn’t have to take the weight of the world on her shoulders. She could share the load with him.
Instead, he dragged a chair from the tiny teak table by the window and gestured for her to sit, to rest. “I’m not exactly without the means or ability to care for a child. It’s only for a short time until we figure out more about her past so we don’t have to fly by the seat of our pants.” He dragged over a chair for himself as well and sat across from her.
“How is it so easy for you to disregard the rules?” She slumped back.
“You’re free to go if you wish.”
She shook her head. “I brought her in here. She’s my responsibility.”
Ah, so she wasn’t in a rush to run out the door. “Do you intend to personally watch over her while details are sorted out?”
“I can hire someone.”
“Ah, that’s right. You’re a princess with endless resources,” he teased, taking her hands in his.
She pulled back. “Are you calling me spoiled?”
He squeezed her fingers, holding on, liking the feel of her hands in his. “I would never dare insult you, Princess. You should know that well enough from the provocative things I said to you five minutes ago.”
“Oh. Okay.” She nibbled on her bottom lip, surprise flickering through her eyes.
“First things first.” He thumbed the inside of her wrists.
“Your plan?” Her breathing seemed to hitch.
“We pretend to be dating and since we’re dating, and we’d be spending this holiday time together anyway, we decided to help with the child. How does that work for a plan?”
“What?” She gasped in surprise. “Do you really think people are going to believe we went from professional adversaries to lovers in a heartbeat?”
He saw her pulse throb faster, ramping up his in response.
“Lovers, huh? I like the sound of that.”
“You said—”
“I said dating.” He squeezed her hands again. “But I like your plan better.”
“This isn’t a plan.” She pulled free, inching her chair back. “It’s insanity.”
“A plan that will work. People will believe it. More than that, they will eat it up. Everyone will want to hear more about the aloof princess finding romance and playing Good Samaritan at Christmastime. If they have an actual human interest piece to write about you it will distract them from digging around to create a story.”
Her eyes went wide with panic, but she stayed in her seat. She wasn’t running. Yet. He’d pushed as far as he could for tonight. Tomorrow would offer up a whole new day for making his case.
He shoved to his feet. “Time for bed.”
“Oh, um,” she squeaked, standing, as well. “Bed?”
He could see in her eyes that she’d envisioned them sharing a bed before this moment. He didn’t doubt for a second what he saw and it gave him a surge of victory. Definitely best to bide his time and wait for a moment when she wasn’t skittish. A time when she would be all in, as fully committed as he was to exploring this crazy attraction.
“Yes, Mari, bed. I’ll watch the baby tonight and if you’re comfortable, we can alternate the night shift.”
She blinked in surprise. “Right. The night schedule. Are you sure you can handle a baby at night and still participate in the conference?”
“I’m a doctor. I’ve pulled far longer shifts with no sleep in the hospital. I’ll be fine.”
“Of course. Then I’ll call the front desk to move me to a larger suite so I’ll have enough space for the baby and the daytime sitter.”
“No need to do that. This suite is plenty large enough for all of us.”
Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
“All of us,” he said calmly, holding her with his eyes as fully as he’d held her hand, gauging her every blink. Needing to win her over. “It makes sense if we’re going to watch the baby, we should do it together for efficiency. The concierge already sent someone to pack your things.”
Her chest rose faster and faster, the gentle curves of her br**sts pressing against the wrinkled silk of her blouse. “You’ve actually made quite a few plans.”
“Sometimes flying by the seat of your pants works quite well.” Otherwise he never would have had this chance to win her over. “A bellhop will be delivering your luggage shortly along with more baby gear that I ordered.”
“Here? The two—three—of us? In one suite?” she asked, although he noticed she didn’t say no.
Victory was so close.
“There’s plenty of space for the baby. You can have your own room. Unless you want to sleep in mine.” He grinned. “You have to know I wouldn’t object.”
Four
Buttoning up her navy blue power suit the next morning, Mari couldn’t believe she’d actually spent the night in Rowan Boothe’s hotel suite. Not his room, but a mere wall away. He’d cared for the baby until morning as he’d promised. A good thing, since she needed to learn a lot more before she trusted herself to care for Issa.
She tucked pins into her swept-back hair, but the mirror showed her to be the same slightly rumpled academic she’d always been. While she wasn’t a total innocent when it came to men, she wasn’t the wild and reckless type who agreed to spend the night in the same suite as a guy she’d never actually dated. She’d expected to toss and turn all night after the confusing turn of events. She couldn’t believe she’d agreed.
Yet in spite of all her doubts, she’d slept better than anytime she could remember. Perhaps because the odds of anyone finding her here were next to nil. Her longtime professional feud with him was well-known, and they hadn’t yet gone public with this strange idea of joint custody of an abandoned baby. The hotel staff or someone on the police force would likely leak juicy tidbits about the royal family to the press, but it would all be gossip and conjecture until she and Rowan made their official statement verifying the situation.
Soon enough the world would know. Eventually the cameras would start snapping. Her gut clenched at the thought of all those stalkers and the press feeding on the tiniest of details, the least scrap of her life. What if they fed on the innocence of the baby?